


Gravity Falls: Return to the Falls

by GalladeRocks



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalladeRocks/pseuds/GalladeRocks
Summary: Summer has come back to Gravity Falls.  Dipper and Mabel return to the Mystery Shack for another grand adventure with their family.  After a year of swashbuckling journeys on the high seas, Grunkles Stan and Ford are happy to settle down with the kids for a few months.  Of course, there is never a dull moment in Gravity Falls, and the Pines family is again swept up into new mischief, with loyal companions Soos and Wendy beside them the whole way.  And when old flame Carla McCorkle comes to town, Stan finally finds himself with a second chance at love.  However, some long-held questions remain to be answered.  Bill Cipher may be gone, but he is not forgotten.  Something oddly familiar stirs in the woods and more specters of Stan and Ford's past arise at every turn.  If they are to have any hope of saving their loved ones from the looming darkness, the Mystery Twins must delve ever deeper into the nightmare that lingers over Gravity Falls.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set up to be essentially a sequel to the actual series, so I hope you can appreciate it! On the whole, I'm attempting to maintain the overall tone and theme of the series, but that's obviously impossible to perfectly replicate, so I'll just do the best that I can. I also have a Tumblr blog for this fic. I'll post any art, bonus info, or behind-the-scenes looks to each chapter there. And you might even find the occasional cryptogram too. So if you want to check it out, just visit me at https://returntothefalls.tumblr.com/
> 
> Oh, and sidenote, but the prologue isn't supposed to be a numbered chapter. Growing Pains should be Chapter 1, and so on. But because there's no way to leave the prologue unnumbered, everything is one number back from my original intentions. But that's not really a big deal, so oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally going to do a prologue, but I felt like this was necessary to get some events set up for the first two chapters, so here it is! Plus it gave me the chance to explore a couple scenes with Stan that I had conceptualized but not found room for in actual chapters. Hope you enjoy!

_A._

The old man opened his eyes and blinked, confused. He was in the living room, in the old recliner, the best seat in the house. He must have dozed off while watching "Duck-tective," but that didn’t seem right. That show engrossed him far too much to put him to sleep, even if he’d seen the episode a hundred times.

_X._

The TV was turned off, but that in itself wasn’t odd. If he’d fallen asleep with it on, his brother would have shut it off. That old nerd hated wasting energy and had gone on a big power-saving kick after getting the house back in working order, insisting that the rest of the family keep their lights off and devices unplugged when not necessary. Of course, that all seemed pretty rich coming from the guy who built a giant universe portal that ran exclusively on raw nuclear waste. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t rendered the whole town uninhabitable when it went to pieces.

_O._

Stan looked around, frowning. Had he imagined that sound? Maybe his hearing aid was on the fritz. The house seemed to be quiet, after all. The kids must have been outside. Or … what time was it? Afternoon? Night? The fact that he’d dozed off didn’t help him much; he could fall asleep in the armchair no matter the hour. Oh well, he felt no need to worry. Right now, all he wanted was a nice cool drink to counteract the heavy summer air.

_L._

A slight noise drew his attention and he glanced to his right. A pink aluminum can sat on the dinosaur skull end table. Had that been there before? He grabbed it and nearly dropped it in surprise; it was ice cold. Maybe Mabel had left it. She knew how much he loved his Pitt Cola, especially on a hot day like this. Without further question, he popped the tab.

_O._

The frosty beverage fizzed delightfully in his mouth. He took a long, refreshing drink and sighed in contentment. Now this was more like it. If the kids were out, he might as well just kick back and enjoy some alone time. He took another swig of his soda and picked up the remote. With the house to himself, this would be the perfect time to check out the Black and White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel. The Shack was usually too busy for him to have a private moment to sit down and enjoy his guilty pleasure in peace. He pressed the power button.

_T._

There was a soft sound, like the gentle whisper of a breeze, but the television did not come on. He frowned and jabbed the button again. Still, there was no reaction. The batteries must have been dead. Of course this couldn’t be easy. He flopped back in the chair and groaned, even though no one was around to appreciate his dramatics. Why couldn’t Ford have invented a lifelong remote battery, or a robot butler to fetch new batteries, or something useful of that nature. Surely he and the hillbilly could have put something together. Sighing, Stan stood up, resigning himself to the fact that he’d have to move from his seat in order to change the batteries.

_L._

The TV flashed on, startling him with the sudden burst of color and sound. A young man with brown hair and an open-collared shirt danced onto the screen. “Hi, I’m Stan Pines of Stan Co. Enterprises!” Stan recoiled in shock from the face. _His_ face.

_A._

It was a voice, fully audible now, emanating from everywhere and nowhere. This time, Stan heard it clearly over the commercial. The TV screen buzzed with static and the image changed. It was the younger Stan again, now sporting a bushy mustache. “Hi, I’m Steve Pinington!” Stan backed away further, sweat running down his back. Was it getting hotter? Was the TV possessed? Weirder things had happened in the Shack. Steam rose from the aquarium tank and, judging by the smell, Mabel’s lobster had been boiled to delicious perfection.

_X._

Stan’s hair stood on end. The room felt charged by the voice, like lightning was about to strike. The TV flickered again. “Hi, I’m Stetson Pinefield! Are you tired of piles of owls constantly blocking your driveway?”

_O._

The images flew by faster and faster. Stan’s skin was like wax, melting and dripping to the floor, but he felt no pain.

_L._

“I’m Hal Forrester!”

_O._

“They call me 8-Ball Alcatraz!”

_T._

“Hi, I’m Mr. Mystery!”

_L._

An exterior shot of the Mystery Shack remained on the screen, but its surroundings changed. The sign fell away, the decorations disappeared. Snow blanketed the house. The man of many names was still there, standing on the front porch, staring longingly at the door.

_A. X. O. L. O. T. L._

The voice droned on with greater intensity. Stan sank to his knees, which squished sickeningly into the carpet. The picture darkened and the Shack faded away, but a strange orange symbol still glowed in the blackness. Without warning, Stan’s back seared with pain and he screamed as blue fire erupted from his scar.

_A X O L O T L._

The screen changed one more time. Another man appeared, almost identical to the young Stan, but wilder, a manic glint in his unblinking eyes. A tattered red book was clutched in his six-fingered hands. He stared into Stan’s eyes as though he were there in the room, not merely an image on a screen. And perhaps he was.

The Journal floated out of his hand, pages flipping wildly in an unfelt gale. Azure flames licked at Stan’s legs and he struggled to stand back up, but he slumped forward again, his decaying body unable to handle the effort. A long, merciless laugh rang out, coming from the flames, from the Journal, from the doppelganger in the television.

_A X O L O T L A X O L O T L A X O L O T L._

The fire loomed over Stan, twisting and writhing like an entity in itself. From within the chaotic mass, a familiar shape began to emerge.

“Stanley?”

The man from the TV was looking up at the fire, panic in his eyes. He lifted up into the air, his arms flailing, as he was drawn through the screen and toward the hellish triangle. Stan lunged forward, mustering all his energy, but he still could not reach. “St-Stanford!” He gritted his teeth, ignoring the flesh-colored drops that fell from his fingertips.

“Stanley?” The young Stanford was frantic, kicking and screaming in a vain attempt to distance himself from the fire. A white light glowed in the center of the triangle, shining like a beacon amidst the scorching sapphire. The mocking laughter shook the earth.

Stan tried to lift his arms, but his energy was gone. He fell to his side, could feel his cheeks sticking in the carpet, but his eyes were still locked on his brother. The words came unbidden to his lips. “I just got him back, I can’t lose him again!”

But he did not stop. With one final scream, Stanford disappeared into the light and the triangle, still laughing hysterically, crashed down onto Stan, consuming him in fire.

“Stanley!!!”

Stan sat straight up, gasping for breath. He spun around, but the flames were gone. The entire room had changed. He was sitting in a bed, a rather small one. His bed. He grabbed his glasses from the small bedside table and slipped them on, blinking as the world came into focus. The small cabin rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of the sea that he had grown so accustomed to. A figure stooped by the bed, gripping Stan’s arm with both hands. It was his brother – the grizzled old adventurer, not his crazy-eyed younger counterpart, driven half-insane by nightmares and paranoia.

Ford smiled, apparently relieved. “Thank goodness, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Stan grumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I’m an old man, sleepin’ is one o’ the few pleasures left in life.”

“Sorry, but you were mumbling and thrashing around,” Ford said. “Seemed like you were having a nightmare. Everything okay?”

Stan swallowed hard, the image of the younger Ford covered in blue flames flashing through his mind again. “Of course I’m fine,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “I met the king o’ nightmares once, and I smashed his two-dimensional keister into a million pieces. There’s no nightmare left that can get the jump on ole Stanley Pines.”

Ford gave a short laugh. “Alright, fair point. But don’t hesitate if there’s anything you need to talk about. I promise, I’ll listen.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me yet,” Stan said, lightly shoving his brother aside as he climbed out of bed. “I haven’t even had my coffee.”

“Already poured you a mug,” Ford said, moving to the door. “Drink it fast and get ready. We arrived while you were sleeping.”

Stan froze halfway through pulling on his pants. “Here? Already?” He pushed past Ford and stepped out of the cabin. The ocean breeze tousled his shaggy hair as he crossed the deck, inhaling a deep lungful of tasty sea air. He leaned over the rail and gazed across the gray water to the dingy shore beyond.

Ford appeared next to him, coffee in hand. “I honestly never thought I’d see this place again.” He paused, watching a seagull as it drifted in lazy circles overhead. “I wasn’t sure I _wanted_ to see this place again.”

“I know the feeling,” Stan said. “Technically speaking, I shouldn’t even set foot in the state. But hey, it’s been forty some years, no one’s gonna remember my ugly mug.”

Ford smirked. “Well, let’s get this over with. You get dressed and I’ll take us in.”

Stan turned back to the cabin, then glanced over his shoulder again at the city awaiting him. “I’m finally back,” he murmured, feeling almost dreamlike as he looked across the misty bay to the small wooden sign standing at the water’s edge, too far away to read but familiar nonetheless. “Glass Shard Beach.”

***

Strange as it was to return to Glass Shard Beach after so many decades, their entry had been quick and easy. Ford got them a good price for docking – and Stan continued haggling with the dockworker until the poor sap settled for $5 and an “ancient Antarctic artifact” made of paperclips, chewed gum, and some soon-to-be melted ice cubes. From there, they set out on foot, visiting a few familiar haunts. For a silent thirty minutes, they sat in the sand beneath a dilapidated old swingset, its seats long ago rotted away, and watched calm foamy waves lap at the shore. They explored the cave that had seemed like a whole new world to two adventurous New Jersey preteens; now, it was small and empty, offering nothing more than hollow nostalgia. The old pawn shop had been converted into a tattoo parlor. Stan joked that they ought to get matching tattoos, but Ford just pulled his coat a little more tightly around his neck and kept walking. And now, after a hearty breakfast at Hot Belgian Waffles, they reached their final destination.

Raindrops began to fall, slowly at first. Ford opened his umbrella and held it over Stan and himself. The brothers stood before three weathered stones. They were alone in the cemetery with nothing but unvoiced thoughts and unseen ghosts. Stan’s eyes ran over each of the graves, waiting for some kind of emotion to stir up inside him: sadness, regret, satisfaction? But he felt only emptiness as he read the three names again and again: his father’s, his mother’s, and his own.

Ford was the first to break the silence. “It was three days before I thought of them.” Stan kept his eyes locked on Filbrick’s name. “I’d been back in Gravity Falls for three days,” Ford continued. “I was in the basement, dismantling the Portal. Much easier to take apart than it was to build. But I guess that’s true for most things.” He chuckled quietly, but his smile faded as he looked at Stan. “Things had calmed down a bit by then, and I found myself thinking about all that I’d missed in the thirty years I was gone. And I thought about Ma, and Dad, and ... well, I knew there was no way they’d still be around. So I never bothered to ask. And I thought a hundred times about coming back here to see them, but …” He trailed off.

Stan put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “I would never’ve come back here without you either, Sixer.”

Ford smiled. “Thank you, Stanley.”

Stan gently elbowed his brother in the ribs. “That wasn’t so hard to say now, was it?” The two laughed, and Stan marveled at how far they’d come in the last nine months. That which had once divided them now brought them together.

“I’m glad we could do this,” Ford said. He frowned, gesturing to the third gravestone. “But we should probably tell somebody that you’re not actually dead.”

“Eh, the less people who know that, the better,” Stan said, waving his hand dismissively. “And, uh, ya should probably check with me before ya make any out-o’-state trips in the future. There may or may not be a few outstanding warrants in your name in the Northwest. And the Southwest. And the Midwest, the South, pretty much all your contiguous United States. And, uh, you’re not sittin’ too hot south of the border either. Basically, just stick to Oregon, Canada, and international waters, and even then I can’t make any promises.”

Ford sighed, massaging his temple and smiling in spite of himself. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Now come on, we’d better get moving if we’re hoping to get home on time.”

Stan nodded. “Nothin’ left for us in this town anyway.” Together, he and Ford turned away from the graves, ready to leave, but they immediately stopped in their tracks.

Another figure was strolling down the path toward them, shielded from the rain by a purple umbrella spotted with a white floral design. It was an old woman, her face wrinkled and her shoulder-length hair white, but her stride was long and confident, undeterred by her onset age. Stan squinted at her, his brow furrowed in concentration. Even after his time spent with Ford and the kids, there were still little gaps in his memory that plagued him from time to time. And now something was setting off bells in his head, an image fighting to resurface at the edge of his consciousness.

The woman paused mid-step as she saw the two men in front of her, then continued toward them, flashing a friendly smile. “And here I thought I’d be the only one out here on a gloomy day like this,” she said.

Ford waited for Stan to speak – normally he was the one to take charge in social situations – but Stan’s mouth remained set in a grim line. “We were just in town for the day,” Ford said quickly. “Just leaving now, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Oh, of course,” the woman said, stepping aside. She glanced at the three gravestones as Ford moved past her, dragging Stan alongside him. “Did you know the Pines family?” she asked.

Ford didn’t look back. “Yes, we knew them.”

The woman nodded. “I did too, a long time ago. I thought I’d come see them one more time before I moved on to greener pastures.” She stared at the third tombstone for a moment before looking back to the brothers. “They suffered so much. But I’m sure you knew that already.” She smiled sadly. “I left town just after it all started falling apart. Maybe if I’d stuck around, I could have done something to help.”

Stan gave a harsh laugh and finally met her gaze. “Lady, lemme tell ya, there’s nothin’ you or anyone else coulda done to help that mess of a family.”

The woman locked eyes with Stan, her expression mournful yet curious. Stan simply shrugged and turned away, nudging Ford to start moving. However, before he could take a step, the quiet voice behind him spoke once more.

“Stanley?”

He froze. Slowly he turned back. A single word popped into his head; it was strange, nonsensical, but it felt right. He was on the cusp of remembering, he just had to let that one word loose in the air.

“Hotpants?”

The woman laughed, even as her eyes brimmed with tears. “No one’s called me that in a long time.” She ran forward, dropping her umbrella in the dirt and throwing her arms around Stan. A rush of warmth ran through him as the bubbles of memory burst in his brain. He’d felt these arms wrapped around his neck before.

Ford’s eyes widened as he came to the same realization. “Carla? Carla McCorkle?”

“It’s good to see you, Stanford,” she said, pulling back from Stan and bending down to retrieve her discarded umbrella. She looked between the two brothers and laughed again. “I can’t believe I’m standing here with you two.” She glanced back at gravestones. “You know, I always wondered about you, Stanley. Seemed to me that a crazy guy like you would never kick the bucket so easily. But to think that I’d find you here now…” She wiped away a few stray tears. “Well, I never dared to hope for that.”

“I never thought I’d see you again either,” Stan said. “I’ve, uh, had a lot on my plate for the last few decades.”

“I can imagine,” Carla said. “Wow, I just … wow. You’re alive. Stanley Filbrick Pines is alive and standing right in front of me.” She looked to Ford. “There’s a story here.”

“A long one,” Ford said.

Stan scoffed. “My brother got too deep into sciency stuff and I had to fake my death and pretend to be him for thirty years while I tried to save his life.” He shrugged. “Pretty simple, if ya ask me.”

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve come a long ways from driving my boyfriend’s van off a cliff.”

“That hippie jerk was hypnotizin’ ya with his trash flower music!” Stan said. “I stand by what I did!” His voice softened. “But y’know, I’m, uh, sorry for all that. My nephew tells me that mighta been a bit much.”

“I appreciate the apology,” Carla said. “But don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ve grown a lot since then.”

“Less than you probably think,” Ford muttered, earning a jab in the ribs from his brother.

Carla was unable to hide her smile. “So, you say you have a nephew? Do you two have families?”

Stan grinned sheepishly. “Eh, we have our niece and nephew, Shermie’s grandkids. But that’s it. I dated around, but I never found anyone worth settlin’ down with. And my nerd brother ain’t exactly the marryin’ type.” He leaned in closer, glancing conspiratorially back at Ford. “Though if ya ask me, there’s a hillbilly back home he’d make a cute couple with.”

“Stan, I can hear you.”

Stan ignored Ford and winked at Carla. “And what about you? Live happily ever after with your granola-munchin’ Prince Charming?”

Carla snorted derisively. “No, Thistle Downe went out with disco. Dark times, those 70’s.” She shuddered. “But your story sounds a lot like mine. There were a few guys who came and went, but none of them were right for me.”

“Shame, they all missed out,” Stan said. “You’ve aged phenomenally.” He blushed. “Er, y’know, for an old broad.”

“How flattering,” Carla said dryly. “You’ve not done too bad yourself, Stan Pines.” Stan’s face grew redder and Carla laughed.

Ford cleared his throat. “Not to intrude on this happy reunion, but we do have places to be. The kids will be coming to town in a week and we hope to be there when they arrive.”

“Geez, Poindexter, sounds like you’re in a hurry to get rid of me,” Carla said, her tone playful.

Stan sighed. “Much of a buzzkill as he may be, my brother’s right.”

“I understand completely,” Carla said. She smiled. “It sounds like everything has turned out pretty well for you guys. I’m really happy for you. After everything that went down back in high school, I was afraid of where you would end up.”

“We went through a lotta bad stuff,” Stan said. “And it took us a long time to get past it. But we made it.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll tell ya the whole story sometime.”

“I’d love to talk again,” Carla said. “Can I have your cell number?”

Stan scowled. “Hey, I’ll have you know I haven’t been to jail since … er, if ya don’t count that night for the Madame Ben Franklin dollars, or that whole nuclear waste thing that I was _completely innocent of,_ then I guess it would be –”

Carla smirked. “Stan, I mean your cell phone number.”

Stan’s face flushed red again. “Er, yeah, of course. Uh, Ford, do we have one of those doohickeys?”

“Fiddleford fixed up this old laptop to give us direct video connection to Dipper, Mabel, and Soos’s devices,” Ford said. “And he also gave me this long-range walkie talkie for whenever we need tech support, like when Stan tries using the computer to check his cash-for-gold sites and crashes it with pop-up advertisements.”

“It’s important business!” Stan said indignantly. He leaned closer to Carla again. “Y’see, there’s change comin’. People say gold’s on the rise, but the real money’s in turquoise. Little pro-tip for ya.”

Ford sighed. “So to answer your question, no, we don’t have a cell phone.”

Carla laughed. “No worries. I’m sure we’ll get something worked out. Ask your niece and nephew to look me up on the Internet, they can hook us up.”

“It’s a deal,” Stan said. “If you’re ever in the neighborhood, just drop on by. That’s Gravity Falls, Oregon, by the way. Come to the Mystery Shack, buy some keychains, and ask for the original Mr. Mystery.” He gave a thumbs up and winked. “That’s me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Carla said, smiling. She extended a hand, blinking in confusion as both brothers flinched back in response. But they recovered quickly, and Ford and Stan each shook her hand in turn. Stan’s fingers locked through hers, lingering in her grasp for a few extra seconds before he drew his hand back.

Ford coughed awkwardly. “Uh, Stan?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m comin’,” Stan grumbled. He made finger guns with both hands and pointed to Carla. “You stay frosty, puddin’ … uh, puddin’ pie, dessert cream, uh, creamy cat.” He covered his face with his hand. “Er, bye.”

Carla laughed and gave him another short hug. “Goodbye, Stan. I’m glad you’re alive.” She turned to Ford. “Make sure that doesn’t change.”

“It’s a struggle, but I’ve managed so far,” Ford said. He put an arm around Stan and turned him around. “Come on, Stan. Back to the ship.”

“A good brother wouldn’t let me make an idiot of myself like that,” Stan muttered.

“When have I ever been a good brother?”

Carla watched as the two old men walked away, bickering good-naturedly like they had as kids. Whatever had happened to them in the interim, some things never truly changed. It was a comforting realization.

She stared down at the gravestone before her and shook her head in disbelief. She had seen a lot of extraordinary things in her life, but Stanley Pines certainly took the cake. She still remembered the sparsely-attended funeral, where Ma Pines had stood up and given a short speech about her “free spirit” who had left too soon. Shermie stuttered through a generic speech about brotherly love. Filbrick remained stony-faced, never speaking a word through the whole event. And Ford didn’t even bother to show up – though now she knew why. Otherwise, there was nothing more than a smattering of townspeople, several of whom were simply looking for a refund on their Stan-Vacs or Shammies. Carla wasn’t sure why she attended, but she was glad she did. She’d seen firsthand how the world treated Stanley Pines, and she respected him all the more for his ability to keep standing under all that abuse. There was something to be appreciated in a man like that.

A coy smile played at the edges of her lips. She’d spent the last few years with no real aim in life anyway. But now she knew where she could find a little fun. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and ran a quick search for maps, transportation, lodging.

Everything she needed to know about Gravity Falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRQ'W DVN FDUOD DERXW KHU MRUWV SKDVH


	2. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer has begun again, and Dipper and Mabel return to Gravity Falls to reunite with all their old friends. But of course, nothing is ever normal for long at the Mystery Shack, and a troubling presence deep in the woods leads Dipper to realize his greatest fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took way too freaking long, but it's finally here. This chapter went through several different incarnations; it's weird how I've been able to plan out lots of future chapters in great detail, but trying to bring everything together as a proper introduction was strenuous. But I've done it in a way that I think will serve the purposes of this fic as whole, so I'm glad I took my time with it. Long story short, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> And curse you, AO3, for not letting me mark the prologue as Chapter 0. This is supposed to be Chapter 1 but apparently everything's gonna be bumped back one number. Oh well, it'll have to do.

The relative peace of the hazy afternoon was disturbed by the piercing screech of brakes as the Speedy Beaver bus rolled up to its stop. The doors opened with a hiss, releasing a burst of chilly air into the sweltering atmosphere of the woods. A single gnome poked its head over a stump to watch as the bus deposited its sole passengers: one boy, one girl, and one pig.

The boy tipped his trapper hat to the driver as he passed. “Thanks for the ride, Dale!”

“And thank you for cleaning up the pig vomit.”

The driver's tired sarcasm was lost on the girl, who squatted down to rub the expectant pig's stomach. “Waddles gets bus-sick,” she said, giving the pig a quick kiss on the snout.

“Don't feed him so much corn at the rest stop next time,” Dipper said, even as Mabel took another ear from her sweater pocket and stuffed it into Waddles's open mouth. 

Mabel hopped off the final step, dropped her suitcase, and pumped both fists in the air. “ _Hello, Gravity Falls!_ ” she screamed, sending a flock of birds scattering from the treetops. She spun in quick circles, beaming as wide as her cheeks could stretch, but her smile faded as she realized the clearing around the bus stop was empty. “Gotta be honest, I was expecting more of a turnout,” she said as Dipper and Waddles stepped down onto the grass beside her. The gnome waved from atop his stump and was promptly snatched up by a hawk.

“It is weird, I thought someone would be here,” Dipper said, giving a last wave to Dale as the bus doors closed. “Guess I’d better lower my expectations before I get a big head.”

“Too late,” Mabel said, snickering. 

“Mabel, our heads are literally the same size.”

The bus roared to life and pulled away from the stop, drowning out their voices and masking the sound of approaching footsteps. A pair of strong arms wrapped around the twins from behind and lifted them off their feet. The instigator of the embrace was a large man, wearing a black suit, an eyepatch, and a familiar maroon fez. Only one person in the world could possibly deliver a bear hug so enveloping in its warmth.

“Soos!” the twins exclaimed.

“’Sup, dudes!” Soos said, placing the children back on the ground. “I just had to be here to meet you, I couldn’t wait any longer!”

“We’re glad to see you too, Soos,” Dipper said.

Mabel surveyed Soos with a scrutinizing eye. “I’m digging the ensemble, Soos!” she said. “The Mr. Mystery look really _suits_ you.” She poked Soos’s stomach and he giggled.

“Thank you, Mabel! And I love your sweater,” Soos said, pointing to Mabel’s shirt. The purple sweater bore a picture of a goldfish with a sword strapped to its forehead. “It's, like, a sword fish.” He paused. “Whoa dude, that’s, like, a pun.” Mabel tried to high-five him, but his hand missed hers entirely. “Sorry dude,” Soos said, flipping up his eyepatch and blinking several times as he adjusted to the light. “I’ve got like no depth perception with this thing.”

“So how have you been, Soos?” Dipper asked. “Is running the Mystery Shack everything you dreamed it would be?”

Soos took off his fez for a moment to fan himself. “It’s all that and more,” he said. “I really feel like I’m makin’ some magic for people, y’know?” A slight flush came to his cheeks, though it might have just been the heat of the day. “I think Mr. Pines would be proud of me.”

Mabel squeezed his hand. “I know he will be,” she said. “So where is Grunkle Stan? Got a hot date? I bet she’s beautiful.”

"Sorry, the Mr. Pineses aren’t back yet," Soos said. "They ran into some trouble with a canal or a canary or somethin’ like that.” Dipper and Mabel’s faces fell, but Soos patted both twins on the back. “Don’t worry 'bout it, dudes! They’ll be here real soon. For now, Melody and Wendy are waitin' back at the Shack and they really wanna see you.”

Dipper perked up at the mention of Wendy’s name. “Well, no use standing around here all day. Let’s get going!” He pulled a small glass bottle out of his pocket and gave a few quick spritzes to his already-sweaty armpits and neck.

“Oh no, not the cologne again,” Mabel said, pinching her nose. “Dipper, we talked about this. That stuff smells like expired milk and motor oil.”

“Sorry, Mabel, but I’m maturing,” Dipper said. “And that means smelling mature, like all those buff guys in the Hatchet Body Spray commercials.” He pointed to the label on the bottle. “This is the Mega Manly Musk. Guaranteed to attract the attention of every lady that catches a whiff.”

Mabel squinted at the fine print on the label. “And moose. Do not use during mating season.” 

“Whatever,” Dipper said. “You just don’t know what a real man smells like.” A passing bird dropped unconscious at his feet.

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing all this for Wendy.”

“Hey, I’m over that silly crush," Dipper said. “Wendy is one of my best friends! We've been texting for months about out all the fun stuff we'd do this summer.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m a teenager now, I can _really_ fit in with her friends."

“I didn't know Wendy's friends were all giant stinky nerds,” Mabel said, giggling. “But nah, I’m just teasin’, broski. I can’t wait to see my besties too!"

“Then let’s roll out, dudes!” Soos said. He turned and started walking toward the edge of the forest. “Just one stop first, I gotta do my business in the woods.”

Mabel glanced at Dipper in concern. “Does he mean…?”

“It’s Soos,” Dipper said. “He really might.”

The twins followed on Soos's heels, eager to see what “business” he had in store. Mabel launched into a detailed account of her and Dipper's grand adventures in school, starting with her rise and fall as the mighty Painted Empress of the art club. Soos listened with rapt attention, nodding along as Mabel gesticulated wildly, nearly smacking her companions with her suitcase. Waddles plodded along at a safe distance behind her, wandering off the path every few yards to sniff at a mushroom, occasionally sending an unseen critter dashing away through the underbrush. 

Dipper leaned back and stared up at the emerald canopy of leaves and needles, filtered through with specks of dazzling sunlight and the bluest sky he could imagine. A woodpecker peered down at him from a low-hanging branch, tilting its head inquisitively before turning to peck at the bark. This was summer, he thought, inhaling deeply from the fresh warm air, feeling his lungs swell with the crisp sweetness of the woods. Of course, he would always think of his parents' house in Piedmont as his home. But here among the towering ruddy pines and gangly silver birches, he knew he was right where he was meant to be. The scent of mystery and intrigue - or maybe it was just tree sap - was heavy on the breeze, carrying with it the promise of three more unforgettable months in the Weirdness Capital of the World. 

“And so my reign was cut tragically short by the Great Acrylic Rebellion,” Mabel said, dramatically throwing her arms over her head. “And I learned that it is better to be loved than feared. Though Candy tells me that both is preferable.”

Soos slowed his pace as Mabel finished her story. “Sounds to me like you were a wise and just leader,” he said. He paused, examining the surrounding area until his eyes lit up with recognition. “This way, dudes,” he said, leading the twins through a short patch of undergrowth. Waddles disappeared into the mass of green, but Dipper could still hear his quiet snorts and snuffles. 

A clearing opened up ahead of them, a circle of bright green grass in the midst of the uneven scattering of trees. Dipper froze. Nine months ago, he had stood here. Images flashed through his mind: Stan kneeling on the ground with a blank expression on his face, hysterical tears flowing down Mabel's cheeks, Ford embracing his unresponsive brother. Dipper felt his heart beating faster and he wordlessly took Mabel's hand in his own. 

And across the clearing, in the shade of the pines, was Bill Cipher. 

This was no memory, no vision, no mere specter. The dream demon himself sat twenty feet away, his wide unblinking eye staring back at Dipper. Here was the monster that had stricken terror into the hearts of billions across the multiverse, the harbinger of chaos that had “liberated” his home dimension with fire and brimstone. He’d laid waste to Gravity Falls, petrified the townspeople, tortured Ford, threatened Mabel. He had nearly _killed_ Mabel.

Of course, Dipper knew that Bill was dead. Stan and Ford had made sure of that. This was only the demon’s physical body, a cold hunk of stone half-embedded in the ground, now overgrown with a few thin vines. The essence of Bill was long gone, nothing but dust on the winds of the dreamscape. But the sight of the statue was wrong, this whole place was wrong. 

Dipper fought to keep his voice level. “Soos, what are we doing here?”

Soos crossed the clearing to the statue, with Mabel following a few tentative steps behind. “Just here to spruce up the exhibit,” Soos said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a spritzer bottle filled with green liquid. “Mr. Pines had the great idea to make Bill an official Mystery Shack exhibit. Figured as long as he was here, we might as well make some money off of him.”

“That does sound like Stan,” Dipper said, rolling his eyes. 

“So I started running the ‘Meet Mr. Triangle Man Mystery Tour,’” Soos said. “People pay ten dollars to come out here and see him. And then another fifteen to shake his hand. And an extra twenty-five for a souvenir photo.” He patted the top of Bill's hat. “So I’ve been coming out here to spray the weeds and vines that grow on him. Gotta keep him looking presentable.”

“It is a good use for the isosceles jerk,” Mabel said. 

Dipper glanced between Soos and Mabel in disbelief. “Does no one here see a problem with standing around the body of the trillion year old monster that nearly destroyed our dimension? Let alone bringing naive tourists straight to it? This is Bill we're talking about, who knows what kind of backup plans or booby traps he might have left for us.” His breaths came shorter and faster, uncontrolled.

Soos looked to Mabel for a moment, but she simply shrugged. He kneeled down in front of Dipper. “It’s okay, dude,” he said softly. “I know you’re worried, and like, you’ve got reason to be. Ford was against this too, but he did some sciencey tests and he says that Bill is gone for good. He wouldn’t let us do this if it wasn’t safe.”

Dipper took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he steadied himself. He knew that Ford would never have approved if he thought there was any danger at all. But Ford had been fooled by Bill before, and so had Mabel, and Dipper himself, and countless others. Was being rid of the demon really this simple? In the months since Bill’s defeat, Dipper had kept himself from thinking about the demon too much, but now he wondered just how permanent their solution had been. After all, Stan’s memories had resurfaced over time. Was it unreasonable to believe that Bill might as well?

With one more slow exhalation, he opened his eyes and nodded solemnly at Soos. “Okay. I believe you guys.” He looked the statue up and down, reminded of the occasional little triangles he’d found himself doodling on the edges of his notebook in class. “I’m just glad to know that Bill’s doing more good for our family now than he ever did in life.”

“You can say that again,” Soos said, giving a few final squirts of weed killer to the vines on the statue. “If he keeps bringing in money at this rate, I might finally be able to afford my dream body.” He pulled a picture out of his pocket and held it down to Dipper and Mabel. It was an image of a tiger with flaming wings drawn on its back in marker. A photo cutout of Soos’s smiling face was pasted over its head. “Anyways, let’s go,” he said, putting both the photo and the spray bottle back in his pocket. “We’ve got a lotta fun stuff to do back at the Shack!” He hoisted Mabel up onto his shoulders and she cheered aloud, with Waddles oinking in response behind them. He led the way toward a trail on the other side of the clearing, marked with a wooden sign which read “Pay Your Bill Bill at the Mystery Shack” in streaked red paint. 

Dipper hesitated and looked back at the statue, feeling a cold bead of sweat run down the back of his neck as he stared into the stone eye. He stumbled and fell forward, landing on his face in the grass. Groaning, he stood up and brushed away the curling green tendril that had somehow snagged his ankle. The long vine seemed to be stretching out from the statue itself, all the way across the clearing. Dipper shuddered and turned away. He’d had enough nightmare fuel for one day.

After a short walk through the woods, a familiar structure appeared beyond the trees. It was a homely hodgepodge of a cabin, probably more duct tape than wood at this point. A hook-beaked totem pole stood before it, a resolute watcher of the house. The rickety weathervane, bearing the letters W-H-A-T, creaked and spun in the wind. And atop the roof, a giant sign declared the name of the wondrous attraction for all to see. This was an icon, the crown jewel of tourist traps. Of all the hokey huts and supernatural sideshows in the Pacific Northwest, none could measure up to the rustic royalty of the Mystery Shack.

Dipper was impressed to realize that the “S” in the “Shack” sign was actually still attached; it had spent most of the last summer discarded in the dirt, having been repeatedly knocked down in various incidents. “Looks like you’ve been taking good care of the old place, Soos,” he said.

“You know it,” Soos said. “Keeping this place mostly functional takes a lot of work, but it’s nothin’ a handyman like me can’t take care of.” He broke into a wide smile as the front door swung open and a woman in a brown hat and question mark t-shirt stepped outside. “Of course, I’ve had plenty of help.”

“Nice to see you again!” Melody said, coming down the steps to greet the twins. “It sure has been a long time, hasn’t it? Soos hasn’t been able to quit talking about you for months now, we were all so excited for you to get here.”

“And we’re excited to be here!” Mabel said. “Melody, you’re really rockin’ the Soos look, I love it.”

Melody glanced down at her shirt. “What, this? It’s just my Mystery Shack uniform. Soos made it official right after he took over.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow at Soos, who merely shrugged. “Mr. Pines said he’d get confused if he walked into the gift shop and didn’t see someone wearing that shirt. Shack tradition, he called it. But we still can’t get Wendy to wear one.”

“You can have my flannel when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

A shadow passed overhead as a slim figure leapt from the roof of the Shack, grabbing onto a neighboring pine and sliding down the trunk, disappearing behind the gift shop entrance. A second later, a red-haired girl in a green flannel shirt rounded the building, tipping her baseball cap to the twins as she approached. “If you’re expecting a bellhop, sorry, but you’ll have to take your bags upstairs yourself.”

“Hi Wendy!” Mabel said, jumping excitedly around the older girl. “You’ve got to fill me in on everything juicy that’s happened since we left, now that we can gossip together as teenagers. It’s gotta be so much more interesting than middle school gossip, right?”

Wendy smirked. “I’ll tell you all that I know later, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as interesting as whatever you’ve got going on back in California.” She turned to Dipper, who was wringing his hands and smiling awkwardly up at her. Without warning, she snatched the trapper hat off his head and gave his hair a quick ruffle before slamming her pine tree-emblazoned cap down in its place. “Here you go, I kept it nice and warm for you,” she said, adjusting the trapper hat back onto her own head and giving Dipper a wide grin. “Good to have you back, Dip. It’s been pretty boring around here without you.”

“Piedmont was pretty dull without you too,” Dipper said. “I tried making some new friends, but most kids don’t seem to share my taste in the paranormal.” He sighed. “One girl gets possessed by a cursed amulet in gym class and suddenly no one wants to hang out with you.”

“Well that won’t be a problem anymore,” Wendy said. “You’re in our town now, and we’re gonna have more fun than you know how to handle.” She sniffed the air and her nose wrinkled. “Maybe take a shower first, though. You smell like death.” Dipper blushed and Mabel snickered.

“First things first, dudes,” Soos said. “I need a little help around back. Can you give me a hand?” He rounded the corner past the gift shop entrance with Melody on his heels. Dipper glanced at Wendy in confusion, but she simply shrugged and followed Soos. The twins stepped around the corner, their curiosity piqued.

A chorus of cheers rang out and bursts of confetti filled the air. Dipper nearly jumped out of his skin, tumbling backwards over his suitcase. Everyone in town had gathered in the yard behind the Shack. Mayor Tyler sat on Manly Dan’s shoulders, both of them whooping and hollering. There was Lazy Susan, waving wildly, oblivious to the fact that she was spilling drops of scalding coffee from her mug onto Shandra Jimenez and Bud Gleeful. Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland ran through the crowd, waving flags and blowing noisemakers. Soos’s grandmother sat on the porch, watching the others with a small smile on her wrinkled face. Gompers bleated a greeting to Waddles, who snorted in response. Even Toby Determined was there, clad in a sparkling red onesie and dancing with a cane.

“Sorry for the scare, dudes,” Soos said. “But we all thought a surprise party would be the best way to welcome you back!”

Mabel let out a shrill squeal and hopped up and down. “I can’t believe you’re all here!” A small figure leapt from the crowd and tackled Mabel, tumbling into a heap of limbs on the ground. A moment later, both were lifted up by a pair of burly arms, drawing them into a tight embrace. “Candy! Grenda!” All three girls spun in a circle, laughing and hugging until Grenda released the others, setting them back on their feet. “It’s so great to see you guys!” Mabel said, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement.

“We were going to meet you at the bus stop, but Soos asked us to wait,” Candy said. She held up a shredded coil of rope. “Grenda is hard to hold back.”

“I don’t have time for patience!” Grenda said. “It’s been too long since these Grenda arms gave a Grenda hug!”

“Well hang on tight,” Mabel said. “I think I feel another Mabel hug coming on!”

“The Candy hug has to recharge,” Candy said. “It is too powerful.”

Meanwhile, Dipper found himself surrounded by teenagers – fellow teenagers, he thought with a smile. “Dr. Funtimes is back in town!” Nate said, cheering as Lee hoisted Dipper up onto his shoulders. Thompson stumbled after them, trying to carry enough cups of punch for everyone. After laughing for a moment at Thompson’s frantic attempts to stay upright, Lee put Dipper back down and moved to help. 

Robbie, who had been standing to the side with Tambry, feigning disinterest, finally spoke. “Hey, dork. Guess you’re gonna be hanging out with us again this summer.”

Dipper scowled. “Nice to see you too.”

Tambry glanced up from her phone. “Robbie’s been talking about you kids a lot since that whole Weirdmageddon thing. He feels special that he got to be part of the big prophecy.”

“Tambry, don’t tell him that!” Robbie said. He turned to glare at Dipper. “Look, I’m only here because Wendy and the others dragged me here. It’s not like I like you or anything, i-idiot.” He pulled his hood up over his head and slunk away, muttering under his breath while Tambry held his hand.

“What a dweeb.” A familiar girl with probably-fake-blonde hair strutted up to the twins. “Maybe I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but at least I’ll admit I like you.”

“Hi Pacifica!” Mabel said, pulling away from Candy and Grenda for a moment to give her a quick hug. Pacifica half-recoiled, but she fought off the instinctive reaction and reciprocated the embrace. 

“I’m a little surprised to see you here,” Dipper said. “I thought the Shack was too rural for your taste.” 

Pacifica shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to living around the blue collar folk. Though my parents are still struggling a bit.” On the other side of the yard, Preston and Priscilla Northwest watched with undisguised horror as the Woodpecker Guy attempted to settle a dispute between his wife and a rival blue jay.

Dipper laughed. “Seems like upper-middle class life is doing your family some good.”

“Hey, we’re lower-upper class,” Pacifica said. “We still have our dignity. And a servant who puts all our mail in that metal box outside the house.”

“That’s the mailman,” Dipper said. “He does that for everyone.”

Pacifica frowned. “So, what, are we supposed to tip him?”

Mabel opened her mouth to speak but Dipper interrupted her. “Five bucks a day ought to keep him happy,” he said. “Maybe a little higher if you want to be nice.”

Pacifica scoffed. “Please. People should be paying _me_ to be nice.”

“Pard’n me, Pacifica, if ya could allow me a quick word with the twins.”

The voice appeared to be coming from a puffy marshmallow in a blue suit. “Heyyy Gideon,” Mabel said, flashing her braces in a too-wide smile. For once in her life, she did not seem eager to offer a hug.

“Dear Mabel, yer as beautiful as the day we last met,” Gideon said, giving a short bow that threatened to absorb Mabel into his hair. “I’ve been countin’ the days til I could see you again.” Dipper cleared his throat loudly and Gideon looked up, startled. “And ’f course I’ve missed you just ’s much, Dipper! Might I say yer also lookin’ rather dashin’ today?”

“I think we’d all be more comfortable if you didn’t,” Dipper said. 

“So how have you been, Gideon?” Mabel asked.

“Pretty dang good!” Gideon said. “Folks weren’t so trustin’ ’f me at first, what with the whole ‘fake psychic’ thing, but these rubes – I mean, nice people – found it in the kindness o’ their hearts t’ forgive widdle ole me. So now I’ve reopened the Tent ‘f Telepathy and I perform my songs and dances every day.” He winked. “Season tickets are on sale now, I could give you two a hefty discount.”

“Oh gee, sorry,” Dipper said, his smile wavering. “We couldn’t possibly take advantage of your … uh, generosity.”

“That’s enough yammerin’, kids!” 

Dipper jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of a shrunken, bearded man behind him. He didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. The old man winked, fully aware that he’d swooped in just in time to deflect Gideon’s attention. “We’ve got all summer to catch up!” he said, tapping his feet rhythmically. “Let’s kick this hootenanny into high gear!” He pulled a remote out of his suspenders and pressed a large red button. With a loud clanging of metal, a hatch opened in the roof of the Shack and a rickety tower of speakers and strobe lights rose up, blaring pop music and bathing the yard in swirls of bright color. The crowd roared and surged together into a dancing mob.

“Shindig in the United States, by Mona Arizona!” Mabel said. “My favorite party rock anthem!” She grabbed Dipper by the wrist and dragged him into the throng of townspeople. “Come on, Dip, dance with me!”

Dipper held back. “I don’t think so, Mabel. You know I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh come on, you big baby,” Pacifica said, snatching Dipper’s other hand and helping Mabel pull him forward. “If I can do it, so can you.”

“Yeah!” Grenda shouted, giving Dipper an extra shove from behind. “Embrace your inner party animal!”

Dipper held up his hands in resignation. “Alright, alright. But if any of you laugh at me, I’m locking myself in my room for the next three months.”

The party raged until long after sunset. It was midnight by the time Dipper and Mabel had unpacked and settled into their beds in the attic. In no time at all, the musty old room was restored to its former cluttered state, covered in books and clothes and stuffed animals. Mabel hopped excitedly on her bed while Dipper pinned up the last of his “supernatural investigation reports” on the bulletin board, this one detailing a recent sighting of what he suspected to be a fearsome wererabbit. Exhaling with relief, he sat down on the edge of his bed, wiping the sweat from his brow. Mabel flopped down on her back on her own bed, sighing contentedly.

“Sure is nice to be back, huh?” she said.

Dipper nodded. “It feels like we never left.”

Mabel rolled over to face him. “Too bad Grunkle Stan and Ford couldn’t make it. They’d have loved the party.”

Dipper tried to imagine Ford dancing to the greatest pop hits of the 2010s. “I’m sure they’re having plenty of fun on their own.” He slumped backwards onto his pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

“What’cha thinkin’ about, Bro-Bro?” Mabel asked.

“I dunno,” Dipper said. “Just … wondering how this summer is gonna turn out. Last year certainly went differently than I expected. In all of the best and worst ways.” He put a hand on his chest. “I don’t know if my heart can take that much stress again.”

Mabel waved a hand dismissively. “Aww, don’t worry about it. Bill’s gone, Stan and Ford have made up, and Gideon has turned over a new leaf … I think. There’s no one left to bother us but all the kooky monsters in the woods, and we know how to handle them.”

Dipper took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right!” Mabel said. “I’m Mabel!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m pretty tired. Today was a long day.”

“A good day!” Mabel said.

“A good day,” Dipper conceded. “And tomorrow is gonna be even better.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mabel said. She clapped her hands and Waddles plodded into the room, hopping up and nosing the switch on the wall to turn off the lights before curling up at the foot of Mabel’s bed. Mabel blew a kiss in his direction. “Good pig!”

A small smile crossed Dipper’s face as he pulled up the blankets. It was the little moments like this that reminded him just how lucky he was. “Goodnight, Mabel.”

“Goodnight, Dipper!”

Dipper laid back and closed his eyes, enveloped in the comforting sound of the breeze and bugs outside the window. It took only a few seconds for the natural lullaby of the woods to lull him to sleep.

*****

“Dipper!”

Mabel. That was Mabel’s voice. He spun around, but there was nothing but whiteness in every direction.

“Dipper, help!”

An enormous shadow loomed up from the whiteness, two long lines growing up to a sharp angle at the peak.

“Please, Dipper!”

Dipper spun around. Bill towered over him, larger than life. Mabel was clutched in one giant fist, struggling to escape.

“Well well well, look who’s here!” Bill said, his voice booming in the infinite expanse around him. “Sorry, Pine Tree, but you’re too late! I’ve already got what I came for!”

“Let her go now!” Dipper growled, clenching his fists. “We beat you before, we can do it again!”

Bill laughed, the cacophonous sound ringing out from every direction at once. “Go ahead and try, kid. But right now, I’m the one holding all the chips!” He lifted Mabel high over his head, his grip tightening around her. She screamed again.

“Don’t do it, please!” Dipper said, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’ll do anything, just let her go!”

“No deals this time!” Bill said. “I’m playing for keeps!” His eye narrowed in his version of a smile. “Now it’s time for this Shooting Star to fall!” He held up his free hand. “ _So make a wish!_ ”

Then he snapped his fingers and the world erupted into flames.

*****

Dipper's eyes were still heavy with sleep when he made his way downstairs for breakfast. Though rattled by his nightmare, he had managed to get a few hours of mercifully dreamless rest. Mabel, Soos, and Abuelita were already eating when he stepped into the kitchen. 

“Mornin', dude!” Soos said. “We saved some Sooscakes for you!” He heaped a stack of pancakes onto an empty plate and pushed it across the table toward Dipper. “Stan taught me how to make 'em. I think they're pretty good.”

Dipper sat down and took a bite, chewing unenthusiastically. Mabel eyed him with concern. “Geez, Dipper, you look awful. Was there another bat in your bed this morning?”

Dipper groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “No, just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about.”

“Don't sweat it, bro,” Mabel said. “You can hang with me and Candy and Grenda today while we wait for Stan and Ford to get back. We'll have so much fun you forget all about that lousy nightmare!”

Dipper gave a faint smile. “That actually sounds nice.”

“You just have to promise not to use any more of that cologne,” Mabel said. “Seriously, Soos could use that stuff to kill the weeds.”

“Come on, Mabel, I'm not even wearing it!”

“But you've got it in your pocket. I think it's starting to melt through the bottle.”

Abuelita breathed in deeply. “My sense of smell, it has returned!” she said. Her nose wrinkled up. “And I wish it had not.”

Dipper crossed his arms sulkily. “Fine, but I still think you guys are exaggerating.”

Soos chuckled. “Wouldn't it be funny if you said that and then the smoke alarm went off because the smell was so bad?” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for the sound to ring out. “Oh yeah, Mr. Pines sold all the smoke alarms years ago.”

Mabel quickly scarfed down the last of her pancakes and jumped up from her chair. “Alright, let's get rolling! We have a full day of goofing off ahead of us!” She tapped her foot impatiently as Dipper finished eating. “And of course, there's a good chance that our peaceful sunny afternoon will turn into some crazy mystery adventure,” she added. 

Dipper swallowed his final bite and grinned. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“You dudes have fun!” Soos said. “I'll hold the Shack together while you're gone.” The lamp string on the ceiling suddenly snapped and the bare bulb fell, shattering in the middle of the table. Soos gave a thumbs up. “I'll get right on that.”

*****

“And then Pacifica punched him right in the mouth! That was the last time anyone said that her roots were looking a little brown.”

“Some say his tooth stuck in her knuckle and she had it set into a ring. That is what I would have done.”

“Dang, go Pacifica! I can't believe I missed so much!”

Dipper reclined against a tree and smiled as Mabel, Candy, and Grenda continued their banter. Weird as it might be, he found it comforting to listen to their mindless chatter again. Their voices were as much a part of the Gravity Falls ambiance as the natural sounds of the forest. 

He reached into his inner vest pocket and pulled out a thick hardcover book. The cover was marked with a pine tree symbol, perfectly matching the one on his hat. He flipped through the first few pages, which consisted of some rough sketches and sparse notes on various oddities that he’d encountered or researched in California. Finally, he settled on the next blank page and began to write.

_After what felt like the longest school year of my life, I am back in Gravity Falls. When I first arrived last summer, I dreaded the sleepy town that awaited me. Now I’m back, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. The people may be a bit backwards, but they’ve become as good as family to me. And the mysteries – so many mysteries! There’s always something new for me to investigate. Maybe I’ve taken care of all the big secrets already, but I’m okay with that. Exciting as it may have been, I’d really rather not go through another Weirdmageddon. So I’m looking forward to three months of creature hunting and code cracking with all of my favorite people! Sometimes I get the feeling there’s still something huge hiding here, but whatever that might be, I know I’m ready to handle it. After all, I’m a Pines. I’ve got the best backup an adventurer could ever ask for: a family I can trust._

“I hate to be a critic, but you do realize what a cheesefest this is, right?”

Dipper yelped in surprise and fell forward, dropping his journal in the grass at his feet. A brown-bearded gnome leaned against the tree trunk, flashing his most dazzling smile. Dipper stood up, fists clenched at his sides as the girls walked over to see what was happening. “What are you doing here, Jeff?” he asked.

“Whoa whoa, I’m sensing some hostility,” Jeff said, holding his hands up defensively. “You don’t have to worry, we’ve moved on from that whole queen thing.” He glanced sideways at Grenda and his eyes widened. “But please, can someone introduce me to this bulky beauty?”

“Sorry, she’s taken,” Mabel said.

“I’m engaged to be engaged!” Grenda said.

Jeff’s face fell. “Man, a gnome can’t catch a break around here.” He straightened up. “Sorry, that’s not why I’m here. I need your help.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, you asked us for help last summer and that ended with you turning into a dark giant and trying to kill us.”

“Hehe, yeah, that Gemulet ordeal was a bit of a nasty mix-up,” Jeff said. “But I’m serious this time. Gnomes have been going missing and we can’t find out why.”

“You guys are the smallest creatures in a forest full of supernatural beasts,” Dipper said. “The answer seems pretty obvious.”

“It is true, we gnomes have many natural predators,” Jeff said. “Wolves, bears, mountain lions, large birds, small birds, protein-deficient bunnies – regardless, more gnomes have been vanishing than normal. This isn’t just the circle of life at work.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Shmebulock disappeared this morning.” He wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m okay.”

Mabel frowned. “Dipper, this sounds legit.”

Dipper shrugged. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” He turned to Jeff. “We’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but I’m not making any promises.”

“I would’ve appreciated a more enthusiastic response,” Jeff said. “But this is good enough for me.” He raised his hand in a finger gun motion at Grenda. “And if you ever decide to ditch your fella and marry a real colony of magical creatures, you know where to find us.” With one last wink, he jumped back into the bushes and disappeared into the woods.

“Well that was weird,” Mabel said.

“That’s Gravity Falls for you,” Dipper said. “Never a dull moment.” He looked down at his journal, which lay open on the first page. A thin green vine from the grass rested on the paper as if it had grown there, its tip pointing to a small pencil doodle of Bill Cipher. Dipper brushed it aside and closed the book.

“So are we going on a gnome hunt?” Mabel asked.

“Just like Easter,” Candy said. “With little bearded eggs.”

Dipper shook his head. “Not just yet. I’ve got something I want to look into first.”

“Hey dudes!” Soos waved to the group as he walked past. He was holding the spritzer bottle of weed killer. “I’m just goin’ out to spray the statue again.”

“Perfect timing,” Dipper said. “I can take care of that for you, Soos. I’m heading out in the woods anyway.”

Soos frowned. “You sure? You seemed pretty freaked out about Bill yesterday.”

“I’m fine now,” Dipper said. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

“Whatever, dude,” Soos said, shrugging and handing the bottle to Dipper.

Mabel raised an eyebrow. “Dipper, what are you up to?”

“I’m just doing a favor for Soos,” Dipper said. He paused. “And doing a bit of investigating of my own.”

“Well then count us in!” Mabel said.

“Yeah, we’re always ready to party!” Grenda said.

But Dipper waved them off. “This is the first day you guys have gotten to spend together since last summer, I don’t want to interrupt your fun already. And if Jeff comes back, you guys can be here to talk to him, or punt him into a tree, or whatever you want to do.”

Mabel nodded slowly. “Okay, just promise you won’t get in over your head, okay?”

“I promise,” Dipper said. He smiled. “You can trust me.”

“I do.”

*****

A cool breeze whispered through Dipper’s hair, a stark contrast to the hot air of the forest. The orange light of the afternoon sun enveloped the woods in a drowsy haze. Wendy trudged along behind him, twirling her trusty axe like a baton.

“You sure didn’t waste any time getting down to business,” she said. “Second day of the summer and you’re already back in the mystery-solving saddle.”

“I do want to figure out what’s happening to the gnomes,” Dipper said. “But that’s not the main reason I’m out here.”

Wendy’s expression didn’t change. “You’ve been thinking about Bill again.”

“I never did in Piedmont,” Dipper said with a sigh. “At least not beyond remembering everything that happened. But now that I saw him again, right here in the woods…” He shuddered. “It’s like he’s back inside my head.”

“And you haven’t talked to Mabel about this?”

“She’d just worry about me. This is my problem, not hers.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “So why’d you ask me to come?”

“Because you’ll let me do this,” Dipper said. “You’re the only person that won’t try to hold my hand through the whole thing. I want someone here with me, but I still have to do this myself, y’know?”

“I understand,” Wendy said. “No one else can face your fears for you.” They walked in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “You know that applies to Mabel too.”

Dipper furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Mabel’s fine.”

“She’s got as much reason to be scared of Bill as anyone,” Wendy said. “She’s the one he tricked to kick off the apocalypse. Are you gonna tell me she doesn’t think about that? That she doesn’t sometimes wake up in the middle of the night after a dream where everything didn’t turn out okay?” She grimaced. “I do.”

Dipper’s face fell. “She’s never said anything about it.”

“Have you ever asked?”

Dipper opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Wendy put a hand on his shoulder. “We both know Mabel,” she said. “She’ll still be bouncing off the walls no matter what’s going on in her head. But I bet there’s a lot you two could talk through together.”

“I don’t want to bog her down with my worries,” Dipper said.

“And she’s probably thinking the same with you,” Wendy said. “And even if she isn’t, she’s your twin! You two wouldn’t have survived last summer if you couldn’t trust each other.”

Dipper sighed. “You’re right, like usual. I’ll talk to Mabel … later.” He stopped in his tracks. “But I’m still doing this myself.”

The clearing opened up before him. Bill’s statue faced him, its outstretched hand beckoning him forward. The growth of vines had thickened since the previous afternoon, to Dipper’s surprise. Larger green tendrils climbed up the face of the statue, snaking around its arm and hat. Soos would probably need more than basic weed killer to handle this problem.

Dipper took a deep breath. “Alright. I’m going to … talk to Bill, I guess.”

Wendy brandished her axe in both hands. “And if he talks back, I’ll come chop that stupid hat right off his head.”

Dipper stepped out into the clearing, forcing himself to keep moving as he approached the statue. Its eye stared blankly ahead, but the feeling that it was watching him still unnerved Dipper. He stopped a few feet in front of the statue and glanced back at Wendy, who gave him an encouraging grin. Steeling himself, he turned back to Bill.

“So, uh, Bill,” Dipper said. His cheeks flushed. Somehow he hadn’t thought talking to a statue would feel this ridiculous. “You, uh, you’re looking crummy. Those vines can’t be very comfortable.” He frowned. “But hey, you’re the one who tried destroying the town and killing my family. So you deserve what you got.”

There was no reply from the statue. Of course not, Dipper chided himself. His voice grew more confident as he continued. “I’m just here because Soos needs you looking spick and span,” he said. “You’re doing some good for our family now, how weird is that? Mabel was right, this really is the best use for you.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a bottle, giving the statue a quick spritz. A couple vines immediately began to shrivel. “Wow, this stuff works fast – oh.” Dipper looked at the object in his hand and groaned. It wasn’t the weed killer, but his Hatchet Body Spray. He could hear Wendy’s barely-stifled laughter behind him. “Ha ha, very funny,” he said. He put the cologne back in his pocket and pulled out the actual weed killer, spraying around the statue until he was satisfied he’d covered it all.

He stepped back and surveyed the statue up and down one more time. “You really had me going, Bill,” he said. “I heard about the gnomes disappearing and immediately wondered if it was you.” His face fell. “The thought that you might still be able to hurt anyone scared me so much. I had to make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.” He straightened up. “But you’re gone. I guess I just needed to come see you again to convince myself.” He reached out and grasped the statue’s extended hand. “Goodbye, Bill. And good riddance.”

Dipper released the statue’s hand, and the vine on its arm uncoiled. In one rapid movement, it wrapped itself around Dipper’s wrist, locking his hand firmly in place against Bill’s. Dipper looked down at the slender vine gripping him and his whole body went numb. The bottle of weed killer dropped from his free hand, its top popping off as it hit the ground. Dipper turned to the statue itself, but nothing had changed. Its unblinking eye stared back at him, lifeless as ever, while the spilled liquid soaked into the earth at its base.

Metal screeched off stone as Wendy brought down the head of her axe on Bill’s arm. The severed vine fell away, lying motionless in the grass at her feet. Wendy pulled Dipper away from the statue, putting herself between him and Bill. A ripple ran through the vines and they lifted away from the surface of the stone, their tips angling directly at Dipper and Wendy.

Wendy kept her gaze trained on the vines as she spoke. “Dipper? What’s going on?”

“It’s him,” Dipper said, barely able to conjure breath for a whisper.

“Are you sure?” Wendy said, a faintly detectable trace of fear in her voice. “These woods are weird, maybe they’re just scary monster vines.”

Dipper shook his head. “You saw how it happened. It has to be him.”

“Then what do we do?”

Dipper’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. Whatever logical reasoning he might have had abandoned him. Only one solution seemed viable.

“Run.”

Neither he nor Wendy hesitated as they turned and bolted from the clearing. Behind them, the vines exploded outward from the statue and an unearthly shriek split the quiet of the evening. Birds, squirrels, and deer scattered through the underbrush, fleeing the source of the horrible sound.

Dipper looked over his shoulder and immediately wished he hadn’t. Dozens of green tendrils snaked along the path behind him, reaching ever closer. He screamed as one snapped at his heels, brushing over the back of his leg, only for it to be cut down by the blade of Wendy’s axe. She twirled the weapon frantically, cutting down any vine that drew too close. Despite his mortal terror, Dipper couldn’t help but admire her work.

“Wendy?”

“I know, dude. I’m the coolest person you know.”

“You don’t have to be smug about it.”

They kept running, Wendy fighting off the plants all the way. Dipper noted that the vines weren’t as numerous as they had been just a minute earlier and fewer grew close enough to be cut down by Wendy’s swings. Just as she sliced through the last visible vine, the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees ahead.

“Wendy, we made it!” Dipper burst into the open and turned back to the woods, breaking out in a relieved smile. Wendy stepped out behind him, breathing heavily. “That was a close one,” Dipper said. “Are you –”

Wendy’s legs were yanked out from under her and she fell face first into the grass, her axe slipping from her fingers and embedding itself head-first in the ground. Screaming, she clawed at the ground, the vines around her ankles pulling her back toward the trees. Dipper froze, watching helplessly as she struggled against the plants, before instinct took over. He charged, letting out a yell that was half fear and half anger. Before he could even comprehend his own action, he lifted the discarded axe in both hands, grunting from the effort as he brought it down hard, chopping away both vines in one swipe. Wendy leapt back to her feet and grabbed Dipper by the wrist, backpedaling away from the forest with Dipper in tow. For a long moment, they waited, tensed in anticipation, but no more vines emerged to pursue them. Sighing, they turned back to the Shack.

Dipper handed the axe to Wendy, smiling sheepishly. “I guess we’re even now,” he said.

“Seriously? I killed like twenty of those vines while we were running. We’re not even close to even.”

Soos stepped onto the porch, whistling to himself until he noticed Dipper and Wendy approaching. “Perfect timing, dudes! Melody and Abuelita went to Greasy’s Diner while I was closing up, you wanna join them with me? Dinner’s on the Soos tonight!” He paused, noticing Dipper and Wendy’s torn clothes and disheveled hair. “Whoa, you look rough. Did you guys, like, roll back home? I used to do that, but these suits are way harder to patch up.”

Wendy pushed Soos back inside and Dipper closed the door behind them. “Sorry, Soos, but we’ve got trouble,” Dipper said. “Bill trouble.”

“No worries, dudes,” Soos said. “Mr. Pines taught me how to make all the bills disappear.” He lifted the edge of the rug with his foot, revealing a stack of dusty envelopes underneath.

“No, it’s Bill Cipher,” Dipper said. “I went to the statue and the vines, they –”

“Guys, come look at this!” Mabel’s voice called from the living room. “Vines are attacking the town!”

“Whoa, hold on, Dipper,” Soos said. “This sounds serious. You can finish your story later.” Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he followed Soos and Wendy.

Mabel sat on the edge of the armchair with Waddles at her side, her eyes glued to the TV screen as the others entered the room. Shandra Jimenez stood in Greasy’s Diner, which was filled with terrified townspeople. “Breaking news, Gravity Falls is under attack by paranormal forces once again,” she said, her voice and expression stoic. Behind her, Manly Dan and the Corduroy boys cowered under a table while Melody tried to coerce Abuelita away from her unfinished dinner. “A horde of giant vines has appeared throughout the town, attacking people and structures indiscriminately,” Shandra continued. “Mayor Tyler has ordered that all citizens remain indoors and stay away from windows to alleviate risk that the vines will, and I quote, ‘git ‘em.’” Something crashed offscreen and the camera panned to the doorway, where Lazy Susan was beating away vines with a flaming broom. Shandra stepped back into the camera frame, ignoring the battle in the background. “If the town is still standing, we’ll be back at 10 for your nightly news. I’m Shandra Jimenez, and I am going to hide in the bathroom. Back to you, Toby.”

The feed abruptly cut back to the studio, where Toby Determined was sitting on top of his desk, eating a meatball sub in his underwear. The “on the air” light flashed red and he jolted in surprise, falling backward into his seat and dropping his sandwich on the desk. He stared wide-eyed at the camera and cleared his throat. “As a reporter to the people, I know how important it is to remain professional during these trying times,” he said, wiping away a smudge of marinara sauce from the corner of his mouth. Without warning, a vine smashed through the studio wall, grabbed Toby, and pulled him offscreen.

Mabel turned to Dipper and Wendy. “What the heck did you guys do to make all the vines go cuckoo bananas?” 

“My dad told me that someday the plants would come for revenge against us lumber folk,” Wendy said. “I didn’t think he meant it this literally.” On the TV, a second vine peeked up over the anchors’ desk and snatched Toby’s abandoned sandwich.

“It’s Bill,” Dipper said. “I don’t know how or why, but all this is coming from him.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “But Ford said he was gone. He and Stan beat him for good.”

“Obviously they were wrong,” Dipper said.

“I wish they were here now,” Soos said. “Maybe I can be Mr. Mystery, but I don’t think I can beat a demon.”

“We should wait for them to get back,” Dipper said. “Ford will know what to do.”

“That could take days!” Mabel said. “Those vines are going to hurt everyone in town!”

Wendy put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “She’s right,” she said. “All of our friends and family are in trouble.” She lifted her axe. “I say we remind Bill why he doesn’t mess with Gravity Falls.”

“There’s all kinds of pointy metal lawn stuff in the closet,” Soos said.

“Perfect!” Mabel said. She ran to the closet and came back with a handful of threatening looking garden tools, dropping them in a pile on the floor in the middle of the group. “Arm yourselves, everybody! We’ve got a weed to pull!”

Dipper nibbled at his fingernail as Mabel and Soos sorted through the heap of potential weapons. “Guys, maybe we should work out a plan first. If we’re going to have any chance of fighting Bill, then we need to know what we’re doing.” His words came faster, so quick he could barely keep track of what he was saying. “I mean, I know we can beat him, we did it before, but, how – I’m not sure – we have to have a plan. Right?”

Soos and Wendy exchanged glances, but neither seemed willing to answer. Mabel took a deep breath before speaking. “Dipper, I know this is really scary, but we –”

A loud bang rattled the Shack, shaking the floor itself. Waddles squealed in fear and dashed out of the room. Dipper swallowed nervously. “So, uh, what are the odds that our old magical unicorn barrier still works?” As if in response, a sickening crunch of wood resounded from the gift shop. Dipper peered around the corner just as the first vine crept in through the splintered remains of the door. “Okay, forget what I said, we need to leave!”

Soos opened the back door and peeked outside. “No vines back here, dudes,” he said. “We can make a run for the golf cart and get out of here.”

Dipper reached into the tool pile and grabbed a shovel, as reasonable a weapon as he thought he could manage. Mabel lifted a weedwhacker in both hands and revved the motor experimentally. She pursed her lips and nodded in satisfaction. 

“Get to the cart!” Wendy said, waving the twins through the back door just before the vines slithered into the living room. “Come on, Soos, let’s go!”

Soos glared at the vines. “Go with Dipper and Mabel,” he said. “I’ll hold them off.”

“Soos, we’re not leaving you!” Wendy protested.

“I said go!” Soos said, brandishing a rake toward the vines. “I’m Mr. Mystery. It’s my duty to protect the Shack and the kids!”

Wendy hesitated, but nodded in acknowledgement and stepped out onto the porch. “Stay safe, Mr. Mystery.”

The vines reared up like snakes, looming over Soos, but he stood his ground, keeping himself between them and the door. He slammed the rake handle-first on the floor and unleashed a battle cry to shake the very heavens. _“You shall not pass!”_

Dipper and Mabel piled onto the golf cart seat as Wendy gunned the engine. “Hang on tight,” she said. “We’re taking this fight to Bill.”

A large cluster of vines withdrew from the Shack, clutching Soos tightly in their coils. “Oh no, they passed!” he yelled as he disappeared into the forest.

“And I guess we’re saving Soos too,” Wendy added. She pressed the pedal to the floor and the cart shot into motion, spinning in a tight curve and smashing through the underbrush. The cart swerved onto the dirt path and careened through the woods, nearly tossing Dipper and Mabel out of their seats. 

“So, uh, do we actually have any kind of plan?” Dipper asked. A vine lashed at them from the right side, but Mabel cut it down with the weedwhacker.

“Get to Bill,” Wendy said. “We can wing it from there.”

“Okay, cool,” Dipper said, trying and failing to force a smile. He yelped as more vines snapped at the cart. Mabel whooped excitedly as she swung the weedwhacker in wide arcs.

“Dipper, watch our back,” Wendy said. “Don’t let anything catch us from behind.”

“R-right,” Dipper said. He leaned over the back of the seat, holding his shovel defensively in his shaking hands. Immediately, a vine grabbed the shovel and ripped it away from him, nearly pulling him out with it.

“New idea,” Wendy said. She turned and hopped over the seat to stand on the back of the cart. “Take the wheel. I’ll fight.”

Dipper scrambled for the wheel while Wendy whirled her axe at the approaching vines. “I don’t like this,” Mabel said, eyeing Dipper skeptically. “Bad things happen when you drive the golf cart.”

“Bad things happen when _anyone_ drives the golf cart,” Dipper countered. “Clearly the cart is the problem.”

The cart lurched as it hit a root and Wendy tumbled back into the seat. “Stop insulting the cart, Dipper!” Mabel said. “It doesn’t like that!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Mabel, I don’t think the cart cares if I –”

A particularly large vine snagged one of the back poles of the roof. Everyone screamed as the cart veered sideways, tearing through the vine but losing all traction. Dipper fought to correct the cart’s trajectory, but it spun out of his control, crashing through the trees and bushes before flipping onto its side.

Wendy groaned, standing up from the wreckage and pulling the twins out with her. “Just once, I’d like to have a highspeed chase in this cart that doesn’t end in a wreck,” Dipper said, adjusting his hat.

“Heads up,” Wendy said. “We’re here.”

For the second time that evening, Dipper found himself face to face with Bill Cipher. The statue still rested in the same spot across the clearing, with newer, larger plants erupting from the ground around it. More vines lingered at the edges of the tree line, rising and falling softy in unison, as though they were a single huge, breathing organism.

“Hey, dudes!”

Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy looked straight up at the sound of the voice. High above, suspended in a virtual cocoon of closely-wound vines, Soos’s smiling face peered down at them. Numerous smaller green clumps hung around him, some of which were visibly wriggling.

“Don’t worry, Soos!” Mabel called. “We’ll have you down faster than you can say ‘photosynthesis!’” She and Wendy stood back to back with Dipper between them, carefully watching the vines surrounding them.

“Down is not where I want to be right now, dudes,” Soos said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the earth began to rumble, nearly knocking Dipper off his feet. An ominous growl rose on the air, seeming to emanate from Bill himself. Behind the statue, a monstrous green bulb emerged, towering over Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy. With a disgusting wet smack, the bulb split open, revealing a gaping maw full of toothy spines. Though it didn’t have eyes, Dipper was sure that he was locked firmly in its sights.

“It’s a giant flytrap!” he said. “It must be where all the vines are coming from.”

The flytrap’s head lurched forward, dripping a long stream of clear liquid onto the grass below. “Uh, is it drooling?” Mabel asked.

“I think it’s just digestive enzymes,” Dipper said. He frowned. “So, yeah, I guess it basically is drooling.”

“That was definitely not here before,” Wendy said. “Where did it come from?”

“Maybe Bill possessed it and turned it into some kind of demon plant,” Dipper said. “If sock puppets can be possessed, then why not plants too? Especially plants with mouths.”

“I’d rather possess a flower,” Soos called. “Nobody suspects a flower.”

“None of that matters,” Wendy said. “Right now we just need to take out that head.”

Dipper glanced around anxiously. “There are two problems with that. One, there are still angry vines completely surrounding us. And two, that flytrap is probably going to take a bite out of anyone who gets close.”

“I’ve got the same answer to both problems,” Wendy said, raising her axe over her head. “Cut them all down!”

She charged, with Mabel right on her tail, waving her weedwhacker manically. Dozens of vines lunged toward them, whipping and weaving around to avoid the girls’ attacks. Dipper searched the broken golf cart for anything he could use as a weapon, but found nothing suitable. He had to help Mabel and Wendy, but how _could_ he?

“Dipper! Snap out of it!”

Mabel dashed in front of him, slashing through a vine directly in front of his face. “Get it together, bro! We need your help!”

“I want to help!” Dipper said, his voice cracking. “But I can’t! I can’t fight Bill!”

Mabel threw up her arms in exasperation. “You don’t have a choice! I know it’s scary, but –”

Her words trailed off into a high-pitched shriek as a vine hooked around her waist and hauled her off her feet. Dipper gasped in horror. “Mabel!”

“Dipper! Help!”

A few seconds later, another scream rang out as Wendy was snatched up as well, her axe held uselessly against her side. “Let me go, you dumb weed! I’m not done with you yet!”

Something brushed against his chin, a slight touch, soft as a feather. Dipper looked down, horrified at the sight of the vine coiling around his chest. “No!” he yelled, digging his nails into the plant as it lifted him into the air to join the others.

“What do we do now?” Soos asked. Wendy just looked at him sadly, having no comforting words left. Mabel struggled to break loose even as tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes.  
The last shred of Dipper’s resolve stirred at the sight. He tried to pry away the vine holding him, but it only spurred the plant to squeeze him harder.

_Crack!_

A second after Dipper heard the noise, the vine released him, allowing him to fall. He landed on his back on the forest floor, grunting in pain as he hit. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but he staggered to his feet. Vines lingered around him, but none drew too close.

“Dipper!” Mabel’s voice reached him from above.

“Are you okay?” Wendy called.

“Do something, dude!” Soos added.

Dipper’s breath came back, faster and faster, too fast to manage. Black spots danced at the corners of his vision as he watched his sister and his friends dangle overhead, the vines moving them toward the wide-open mouth of the waiting flytrap. “Mabel!” he cried. “Hang on, I – I’ll figure this out! I – I can – ”

“Get away from my family, you big green jerk!”

A metallic whir filled the air and Stanley Pines burst through the underbrush, chainsaw in hand. With one quick move, he bisected the vine holding Mabel. She slipped from its grasp, screaming as she fell, but Stan caught her with ease, holding her to his chest. Dipper and Mabel gasped.

“Grunkle Stan!”

“Stand back, sweetie,” Stan said, carefully sitting Mabel next to Dipper. “I’ve got this.” He picked up his chainsaw and revved it loudly before severing the other vines. Wendy dropped free, rolling gracefully as she landed and springing back up to standing position.

“Incoming!”

Dipper turned just as Ford stepped past him, gun aimed at the cocoon of plants holding Soos. He fired one blast, cleanly shooting through the cluster of vines at their base. The plants crumbled away and Soos dropped out, arms extended toward Stan. “Look out, Mr. Pines!”

Stan dropped the chainsaw and looked up. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding –” 

Soos slammed into him, sending both of them tumbling in the dirt. “Thanks for the save, Mr. Pines!” Soos said, standing up and dusting himself off.

“Don’t mention it,” Stan said, coughing. “I mean it, don’t ever mention this again.”

Dipper looked back and forth between his great uncles, his lips turning up in a genuine smile. Mabel hopped in place, not even attempting to contain her excitement. “Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford! I can’t believe you’re here!”

“We can worry about greetings later,” Ford said, his expression grim. “First we need to deal with the vines. Tell me what’s going on. I’ve seen some hostile greenery before, but never anything like this.”

“It’s Bill,” Dipper said quietly, gesturing toward the statue. “I shook his hand and now this is happening.”

Ford frowned. “That can’t be! None of my tests gave any indication that Bill could still be alive.”

“Forget your tests!” Stan said. “Let’s just focus on sluggin’ this freak back to the second dimension!” He raised his chainsaw again, scowling at the plants that circled the group. “Come at me, you lousy crabgrass!” More vines launched toward him, but he blazed through them and continued his charge toward the statue. Wendy followed behind him, cutting down anything that Stan missed. Rake in hand, Soos hurried after, chopping up any still-wiggling vines.

“Look out, world!” Mabel exclaimed. “The invincible Pines family is together again!”

Ford knelt down in front of the twins, holding out a hand to stop Mabel’s cheering. “Kids, calm down for a moment.” He looked to Dipper. “Dipper, I saw that vine drop you before. What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Dipper said. “I just heard this noise and – wait.” He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his Hatchet Body Spray. A long crack ran down the side of the bottle, through which a light stream of liquid was seeping out. “Aw man, it broke my bottle of cologne.”

“Maybe the vines are just mad because of that gross smell,” Mabel said, pinching her nose.

“Let me see that.” Ford took the bottle from Dipper and squinted at the label, nodding to himself as he read. “I don’t believe it. The combination of chemicals in this is exactly what we need. Dipper, you’ve saved us!”

Dipper’s face flushed red. “Seriously?”

Ford handed the cologne back to Dipper. “This spray is made of the most toxic mixture of chemicals I’ve ever seen! You’re lucky this stuff hasn’t given you second degree burns.” He paused thoughtfully. “If we can get this bottle into the flytrap’s mouth, then it will absorb the chemicals and die! And if the vines are coming from it, then that will kill them too!”

“Whaddya know!” Mabel said. “Guess it’s a good thing Dipper’s a stinky weirdo after all!”

“But how are we supposed to get the bottle to the flytrap?” Dipper asked.

Ford cocked his gun. “Just stick with me. We’ll run it straight to the mouth.” He smiled. “You with me?”

Dipper and Mabel nodded as one. Ford led the way, blasting every vine that came near with expert marksmanship, while Mabel covered the rear with her weedwhacker and Dipper stayed in the middle, holding the bottle in both hands. Ahead of them, Stan had cleared an area in front of the statue, with Wendy and Soos fighting off the plants on either side. The flytrap’s head bellowed, spurring Stan to respond with a war cry of his own. “I’m comin’ for you, Bill!” he said, dropping his chainsaw and making the last few strides toward the statue. Before Dipper or Ford could say anything, Stan reared back, fist clenched, and punched Bill directly in the eye.

 _“Hot Belgian waffles!”_ He instantly crumpled to his knees, clutching his hand in agony. “Ow! So much pain! Why so much pain?”

“You just punched a rock, you knucklehead!” Ford said, equal parts angry and exasperated. “Now get out of the way!” He aimed his gun at the flytrap’s head. “Get ready, Dipper! I’ll draw its attention and then you throw the bottle in its mouth!”

Dipper nodded, unable to force out any words through his shuddering breaths. The bottle in his hands was slick with both leaking body spray and his own sweat.

“Okay, nerds, get this done!” Stan said. “I’m ready to give this thing a left hook right in the – whoa!” One second later he was hanging upside down, a vine wrapped around his ankle.

“Stanley!” Ford spun toward his brother, pointing his gun at the plant holding him. In that moment, the flytrap attacked, lunging forward with its mouth agape. The flash of movement caught Ford’s eye and he dove to the side, avoiding its jaws, only to be caught up in a tangle of waiting vines. 

“Oh no, Grunkle Ford!” Dipper stared in horror at his uncles, strung up side-by-side, unable to break free no matter hard they fought their restraints. At the sides of the clearing, Wendy and Soos were both pushed back by the overwhelming numbers of the encroaching vines.

Mabel gripped Dipper’s shoulder and gave him a quick shake. “Dipper, do something! We have to stop this now!”

“I can’t get the cologne into the mouth from here!” Dipper said. “It has to come closer!”

“Well whatever your plan is, tell me fast!” Mabel said. She screamed as a vine nipped at her, wrenching the weedwhacker from her hands and breaking it into pieces. 

Dipper glanced around him, panic setting in. Stan and Ford were captured, Soos and Wendy were losing, Mabel was helpless, the whole town was under siege, and every single person was counting on _him._ And in the center of the plants, Bill Cipher’s petrified body silently taunted him, assuring him of his inevitable failure. “I don’t know how to save us, Mabel,” he said, the pounding of his heart deafening in his ears. “I freeze up just looking at Bill! I should be able to do this, but I can’t!”

“Don’t you think I’m scared of Bill too?” Mabel said. “You’re not the only one who still has nightmares about Weirdmageddon.”

Dipper looked up to meet Mabel’s eyes and was surprised by the anguish he saw in her face. “Really? But you haven’t seemed afraid of him at all.”

“Because I don’t want that to hold me back!” Mabel said. “Sure I worry about what would happen if things had gone differently, or if he ever came back. But I’m not going to let him get in the way of the rest of my life.” Her expression softened. “So what if this is the scariest problem you’ve ever faced? You have a new scariest problem every week! You used to run from gnomes, now you fight giant robots and shapeshifters and alien drones! Maybe you couldn’t beat Bill by yourself before, but that doesn’t make any difference. You’re Dipper Pines, and you’ve never let down the people who need you.”

Dipper gulped, his pulse racing. “Mabel, I – do you really think so?” His gaze darted around the vines creeping toward him before settling on Mabel, her eyes wide and pleading. He inhaled deeply, trying to slow his rapid breaths. “Well, I guess we’ll die for sure if I don’t do anything.”

“Now we’re talking!” Mabel said. “So do you have a plan?”

Dipper felt the cool glass of the bottle in his hands. “Nope,” he said. “But here goes nothing.”

He stepped forward, into the range of the flytrap. Its head glared down at him, and if it had a tongue, Dipper was sure it would be licking its lips. He closed his eyes, fighting to keep his nerves from failing him.

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Dipper, what are you doing?”

Dipper looked back at her and flashed a weak smile. “What I need to.”

Then the flytrap’s jaws clamped shut around him.

“Dipper!” Mabel screamed, running forward. The flytrap raised its head out of her reach, keeping its mouth tightly closed. Stan and Ford stared in shock at the spot where Dipper had been standing just a moment before. The vines halted their assault, allowing Soos and Wendy to turn and watch. Above them, the monster hummed rhythmically, a deep rumbling that shook the trees themselves.

Suddenly, the flytrap went rigid. A strange gurgling sound rose from within it and its head snapped about wildly. Around the clearing, the other vines writhed frantically, flailing as a raucous cough shook the flytrap. It drew back its head and opened its jaws, giving a loud wet hack as it spat out a thoroughly-drenched Dipper.

Mabel blinked in astonishment and she hurried to her brother’s side, throwing her arms around him and practically crushing him in her embrace. “What the heck did you do?” she asked, pulling back from the hug and helping him to his feet.

“I got plant spit in my ear,” Dipper said, shuddering. He held up the now-empty cologne bottle. “But I think the other guy had it worse.”

Spasms wracked the flytrap’s body as the chemicals took effect. Throughout the clearing, the vines shriveled and cracked into pieces. The freed captives plummeted to the forest floor, with Stan and Ford collapsing in a heap next to Dipper and Mabel. Behind them, a rain of vine cocoons fell and burst open, releasing a small horde of squirrels, birds, deer, and gnomes. One gray-bearded gnome bounced off Dipper’s head with a disgruntled yelp. “Shmebulock,” the gnome said, scampering away into the bushes. 

With a last roar of outrage, the flytrap succumbed to the cologne. Its stem buckled beneath it and its wilted head crashed to the ground, wriggling for a moment longer before going still. Dipper finally exhaled, overcome with relief.

He was scooped up into a bear hug by Stan, Soos, and Wendy simultaneously. “You did it, Dipper!” Soos said.

“That was a real crazy move, kid!” Stan said. “Just don’t ever do that again. I don’t think my old heart can take it.” He furrowed his brow and sniffed the air. “And maybe go hose off that plant vomit.”

“Trust me, dude,” Wendy said. “It’s better than the cologne.”

Dipper stepped back and looked at everyone in turn, feeling a rush of warmth through him at the sight of all of their beaming faces. “I’m just so glad you’re all okay. I didn’t think I’d be able to save you.”

“I knew you could,” Mabel said. “And you did! Always listen to Mabel!”

Dipper grinned, but it faded as he saw Ford standing away from the group. The old man kneeled in the grass before Bill, examining something at the statue’s base. Dipper hurried to his side. “Why did this happen, Grunkle Ford? How did Bill do this?”

“I have a couple possible theories,” Ford said. “Some remnant of Bill’s power could have entered the plants and driven them to attack. Perhaps some of his will lived on in his physical body and took control of the vines once they grew around him.” An irritated expression crossed his face and he held up the empty spritzer bottle that Soos had given Dipper earlier. “Or maybe some chowderhead was out here spraying weeds with the most potent growth elixir on the planet.”

“Wait, what?” Dipper asked, blinking in surprise.

Ford pointed to the bottle. “Soos, where did you get this from?”

“I found it in the closet,” Soos said. “I thought it was weed killer.”

Ford sighed. “It’s a serum that I created during my research,” he said. “Exactly the opposite of weed killer.”

“Why did you have that in the first place?” Dipper asked.

“For accelerating my experiments,” Ford said. “I was growing a lot of weird plants back in the Seventies.”

“Hey, so was I,” Stan said. Ford glared at him.

“So none of this was from Bill?” Dipper said.

“Nope,” Ford said. “Soos just accidentally mutated a hostile system of supervines.”

Soos hung his head in shame. “Sorry, dudes.”

“It’s not your fault, Soos,” Stan said. He scowled at Ford. “Blame the nerd who can’t even bother to put a label on his dangerous science junk.”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry I didn’t clean up every single piece of my old life that was left in _my_ house. It’s not like there were thirty years’ worth of _your_ freakshow exhibits burying all of it anyway.”

Mabel grabbed both Grunkles by the cuffs of their sleeves and pulled them urgently. “Guys, stop fighting! We’re all back together again and we just saved the town from another crazy monster! We should be happy!”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Stan said, crouching down and pulling Dipper and Mabel both into another hug. “It’s good to see you little scamps again. Even if you’re already gettin’ into trouble.”

“Just like you taught us,” Dipper said, grinning.

Stan straightened up and addressed the others. “Soos, Wendy. I assume you’ve been takin’ good care of the ole Shack?”

“Of course!” Soos said. “She’s just the way you left her.”

“Maybe a little worse,” Wendy admitted. “It did just get invaded by vines.”

Stan shrugged. “Eh, it’s been through worse.”

“We’d better head back to start repairs,” Ford said. “And I’m sure the rest of the town will want a hand with that as well.”

He led the way to the path with the rest of the group right behind him. Soos boosted Mabel onto his shoulders for a piggyback ride. “Hey, Grunkles,” she said. “Why were you so late getting here anyway?”

Ford grinned. “Ah, good question, Mabel. It is a pretty spectacular tale.”

“Hush up, Poindexter,” Stan said. “Everyone knows I’m the best storyteller in this family.” He cleared his throat. “It was a sunny morning when the Stan O’ War II sailed into the canal. Flowers were blooming, canaries were singing. And that’s when the cannibals showed up.”

As the group left the clearing, enraptured by Stan’s electrifying account of his and Ford’s adventure, Dipper paused to take one last look at Bill. The statue stood motionless amongst the piles of decaying vines, nothing more than a weathered stone left to solitude in the woods. For the first time, the dread in Dipper’s stomach dissipated. He nodded to himself and turned back to join the others. His family, his friends, his favorite people in the world.

Now, he thought, it was truly summer.

*****

Mabel groaned as she flopped back onto her bed. “Is it possible to sleep forever?”

“That’s called dying, Mabel,” Dipper said.

“I welcome it.”

The night had been long and exhausting. After leaving the woods, the Pines family had embarked on a cleaning crusade across town, offering their assistance in fixing up the damage caused by the vines. Soos and Wendy shared happy reunions with their families, relieved to find them all safe and sound. By the time they returned to the Mystery Shack, the moon was already high in the sky, and Stan and Ford agreed that renovations on the Shack itself could wait for the next day. After a quick dinner of leftover Sooscakes, there was nothing anyone wanted more than to rest.

A low snorting caught Dipper’s attention as Waddles entered into the room, hopping into Mabel’s bed and nuzzled up against her. She giggled, pulling the pig closer to her and kissing his head. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Waddles,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if those vines had gotten you.”

Dipper set his hat on the table and lay back in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He sighed. “Mabel, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mabel said, rolling over to face her brother.

“For everything,” Dipper said. “I nearly got us all killed today because I panicked. I’ve faced my fears so many times before, but this was different. It was so much … more.”

“That’s because Bill is so much … more,” Mabel said. “I still think about him too.” She smiled. “But he’s gone. And even if he comes back, I know we can take him down. And I know you can stand up to him.”

“Thanks,” Dipper said, grinning back at Mabel. “But you’re right. I doubt we’ll ever have to deal with him again.”

“Just promise me one thing,” Mabel said, her face growing serious. “Don’t hide your fears anymore. Whatever you feel, you can talk to me about it! I’ll listen.”

Dipper nodded. “Alright, and you do the same. Tell me if you have nightmares. The best thing we can do is be there for each other.”

“Of course,” Mabel said. She stuck her clenched fist out toward Dipper. “Mystery Twins?”

Dipper mirrored the gesture, even though they were too far apart to actually touch. “Mystery Twins.”

“You kids are still awake?”

Stan stepped into the room, smirking at the twins. “It’s been a rough day,” Dipper said. “We had a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Stan said. “Everyone else is asleep, but my darn brain won’t shut up.” He sighed. “I was really worried about you today.”

“It’s okay, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said. “We can take care of ourselves!”

“And whenever we’re in real trouble, we know you’ll always show up to save us,” Dipper added.

Stan gave a tired smile. “You gremlins have more faith in me than you oughta. I don’t know how I got by this long without havin’ you around to keep me entertained.”

Mabel smiled. “We love you too.”

“Aw geez, it’s too early in the summer to get this mushy,” Stan said, wiping his eyes. “I need to get to sleep or I’m gonna turn into a bigger sap than the Jurassic Sap Hole.” He moved back to the doorway and flipped off the light. “Sleep well, kiddos. Hope you’re ready for a good old-fashioned Pines Family Fun Day tomorrow!”

“Goodnight, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper and Mabel said together. They nestled into their beds as Stan headed back downstairs. 

In the darkness of the attic, Dipper could already feel himself drifting off to dreamland. “I really hope tomorrow is relaxing,” he said, yawning.

“In Gravity Falls?” Mabel said. “What are the odds of that?”

*****

Just after midnight, the Speedy Beaver bus pulled up in front of the Twin Bed Motel. Dale watched as his sole passenger stood up and walked to the door. The old woman was an odd one. Not many people rode into Gravity Falls in the middle of the night. But he couldn’t complain. At least she didn’t have a pig.

The old woman waved to Dale as the doors hissed closed and the bus pulled away. She took a deep breath of the cool night air, delighting in the woodsy scent. Already she felt a thrill of excitement at the idea of the new world she’d thrown herself into. Tomorrow, her life would begin again.

Carla stared up at the starry heavens for a moment before heading inside. “See you soon, Stanley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GR LW IRU WKH YLQH
> 
>  
> 
> Tune in next time to see Carla join the party, featuring 100% less Dipper angst.


End file.
